


About Horizon

by Comedia



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-12
Updated: 2012-09-12
Packaged: 2017-11-14 01:49:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/510027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Comedia/pseuds/Comedia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started out with Kaidan writing letters to Shepard after Horizon, but in the end he never sent them. Somehow this also turned into a post-war story, about moving past painful memories, and the way Shepard tastes and… yeah.</p>
            </blockquote>





	About Horizon

That first letter after Horizon was only the beginning. Kaidan wrote many, many more, but out of all these mails, thousands of words holding his thoughts and feelings, he only ever managed to send one.

For some reason he saved the others on his omni-tool. He never planned to send them in the future, or even to read them again, but simply deleting them wasn’t an option either. They were a collection of his thoughts, so once he’d written them down a surreal fear of losing that part of him would hit. And so there’s this savefile, among hundreds of reports and, you know, things that actually matter.

Twenty three letters that were never sent, most of them written late at night after a few shots of whiskey. He’s always been good at focusing on his work and forgetting everything else, but the thing is that when you’re good at work you’ll eventually finish it. And then you’re stuck with nothing but thoughts, memories and a bottle of whiskey. The memories were the worst. Rough hands searching his skin as if mapping out new territory, the same way they’d explore a new planet with the Mako. Heavy breath, stubble brushing against his lips, his chest, his thigh and… 

And he couldn’t even touch himself, it wouldn’t be right – as things were it’d be an insult to Shepard - but sometimes he didn’t care. Sometimes he did it anyway, because those all too present memories were basically masturbation anyway.

In the beginning he’d just start the letters without any kind of greeting. Shepard didn’t deserve one, because… because fuck him and fuck that Cerberus bullshit. 

Two years. Kaidan had grieved for two years, imagined Shepard’s dying moments - alone, floating in space - and just… he didn’t know how to deal with it. Suddenly Shepard was right there, not dead at all and close enough for him to hold. These things didn’t happen; people didn’t just get revived, but as always Shepard did the impossible. This time without Kaidan by his side though, this time he beat the odds with the help of Cerberus. Cerberus! They had seen what that organization was capable of! They had shut down labs together… and now Shepard just… he just…

So no. He didn’t deserve a greeting. Kaidan wrote down whatever was on his mind, a stream of consciousness full of anger, disappointment and hurt. And that was all.

But then one day something changed. It was all quite sudden. He’d thrown a chair across the room, and to this day he still can’t remember if he used his biotics or not. And then it was gone. The anger, the rage… all he had left was warm memories, a gentle touch at the small of his back still lingering after all this time.  
Horizon seemed different to him from that moment on. Instead of seeing traitors and Cerberus he sees Shepard, relief and hurt in his eyes, asking him to join the Normandy again. And he says no. Says his loyalty lies elsewhere. Kaidan has never been a liar, and definitely not a good one, but somehow he managed to lie both to himself and to Shepard that time. He tries to tell himself that it was the shock of seeing the Commander alive again, but even if that’s true he still can’t forgive himself. 

That night, he cried, drinking much more than he had planned, and when he started writing his seventh letter it didn’t start with a greeting. It started with a name.

“Shepard”, it said, and he can still remember the feeling of writing that name for the first time in so long. It was like an embrace, an overwhelming, almost physical feeling. “I’m sorry. No matter how many times I tell you that it will never be enough. Sometimes I think Horizon was a dream, but I can still remember holding you and I… I’m sorry.”

He kept writing until the words blurred together, the chronometer telling him his workday was about to start at any moment. Of all the letters he wrote, this ended up being the longest one, but despite the length it seemed to him it still only said one thing. I’m sorry.

The following weeks he barely got any sleep, spending most nights looking out the vast of space, trying to tell himself that no matter how far apart they were Shepard was at least out there, alive. But he wasn’t even sure of that. The Omega4 relay? They’ve got to be kidding. Did Cerberus bring Shepard back simply to kill him all over again? Sick bastards.

Those weeks “Shepard” somehow turned into “Dear Shepard”, and yeah, it both looked and sounded kind of pathetic but Kaidan was pathetic, so it didn’t matter. 

Find an observation deck, bring the whiskey, and whenever he got drunk enough he’d write. Or have a cold shower. Sometimes both.  
He managed to both avoid and to seek out news about the Omega4 mission. Shepard would show up with that ship, so alike the SR1 that Kaidan felt sick just looking at it, recruit this or that outcast, and then disappear again. Sometimes he’d stop by the Citadel, and he’d been seen on Omega quite a lot too. Whenever Kaidan visited any of those places he would be more nervous than he should’ve allowed himself to be.  
But despite the nervousness he listened. It’s not eavesdropping if you intend to help the individual; that was something he’d learned from Shepard. And yeah, maybe he didn’t intend to help everyone he listened in on - maybe he didn’t even intend to help Shepard, he wasn’t sure - but if any of the people gossiping had been in danger he obviously wouldn’t have ignored them.

It didn’t take long for him to realize when they were heading for the relay. Shepard’s revival had started out as a well-kept secret, but ended up in the headlines all over the galaxy in just a matter of days. Shepard was like that, the man didn’t know the meaning of the word “quiet”… he still doesn’t. At that thought Kaidan blushes, ever so slightly, because it makes him think of much more than battlefields and politics.

That night he didn’t start the letter with “Dear Shepard”. He started it with “John”.

It was short, confused, and full of typos – instead of “goodbye” there were three words he couldn’t say out loud. The next day he’d been close to deleting the letter but then he’d been distracted. These days he can’t remember what stopped him, he was probably called away on a meeting, but whatever it was helped save the message.

So much have happened since then. Earth, Mars, Apollo’s, Earth again… the past seems so distant. They’re in Starboard Observation. Having spent many months on Earth, first in hospitals and then helping rebuilding their homeworld, being back on the Normandy like this feels both hollow and meaningless. A new crew, no EDI… the ship is even more a ghost of the past than they are.

But this time he’s not alone. Sharing a bottle of some unknown alien alcohol he’s watching the cold of space, the warmth of his husband at his side, and when John asks “What’s this?” he doesn’t even react at first.

Then Kaidan notices the savefile - several months of his life just waiting to be explored.

“Oh, uh… that.” He brings the glass to his lips, sipping the bright pink liquor to buy some time. “It’s something I used to work on from time to time. It’s old.”

John quirks an eyebrow, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes crinkling in a teasing smile. “Something you ‘worked on’? This is a text file. Never imagined you to be a writer.”

Kaidan shakes his head, not quite able to keep himself from smiling. “It’s not what you think.”

John stares down at the screen, curiosity lighting his features. Placing a hand on his knee Kaidan scoots closer, resting his head on the younger man’s shoulder. Heh. Young, old; things that used to matter - they survived the war, they’re all ancient.

“You can read it if you want. It all started after Horizon.”

And just like that John knows. He brings his left arm up, wrapping it around Kaidan’s shoulders, bringing them even closer together, and after taking a deep breath he opens the file.

It’s been a long time since they made love like this. Of all the places in the galaxy, Kaidan never expected it to happen on the Normandy. The one place being the home of more ghosts than Virmire, Horizon… even Earth. John’s breath is hot, his lips surprisingly soft, and he thrusts into Kaidan achingly slow. All those nights of watching distant stars, remembering the touch of a man he thought he’d never see again, and now John is right here. His face gleaming with sweat, his eyes tender and bright and smiling the way they did that night before the Cerberus Base. Kaidan didn’t think it was possible to have this again. After so much loss and sacrifice it was all about healing wounds and appreciating what little you had left… not this.

A scarred hand reaches down to hold him, and he inhales sharply, his fingers digging into Shepard’s back. 

It’s somewhere between a kiss and a bite, the skin of John’s neck having a slight taste of salt and metal, and holding on tight he simply enjoys being close. Breathing heavily together, sharing skin and heat… he’s missed this. So much.

“I love you”, it’s nothing more but a murmur, but it’s enough. Writing those three words at the end of that final letter was one of the hardest challenges he’s ever faced; he never thought it’d come a day when saying them would be this easy.

John’s voice rumbles through both of them, and for a few moments it’s like this is all there is: they’re in their own universe, their own galaxy, and this is everything - all they’ll ever need.

Shuddering he bites down on John’s shoulder as the hand holding him grips tighter and the warmth inside grows even hotter. It’s everywhere, powerful, flowing - and it’s as if all those painful years are being washed away. They won’t disappear, these things never truly do, but from this moment on they’ll forever be a part of their past. They’ll turn into scars, and the thing with scars is that while they’re always there they’re not open wounds anymore; they’re healed.

Yeah. He’s been through so much with John, more than he could ever imagine when first meeting the Commander on the SR1, and finally… finally they’ve found their way home.


End file.
